


Polite Conversation

by firewolfsg



Category: Resident Evil 4 - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Gangbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:44:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewolfsg/pseuds/firewolfsg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post RE2: Wesker very kindly informs Leon of the plans Umbrella could have in store for him if he doesn't cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polite Conversation

Time had ceased to have any meaning to Leon as he hung by his wrists suspended spread eagled in the middle of his interrogation cell. He didn't think there was a single patch of skin on him that hadn't been beaten black and blue or whipped raw. And the most inequitable fact of the matter was that even if he had wished to talk, he did not have the answers his interrogators wished to torture out of him, nor did he know enough to lie creatively and save himself from the flogging.

Dimly, Leon did recognize that he could have been subjected to worse agony. His interrogators were holding back when they whipped him. As yet, although his whole body felt as if it was one solid bruise, they had not yet seen fit to draw blood. For some reason, they had an interest in keeping his hide intact.

Whatever the reason, Leon hoped they kept that resolve. He'd already long missed his check in, so he just needed to survive whatever this Umbrella facility had in store for him. Rescue would be on its way eventually. Barry Barton would probably even head the team again. How ever much Leon wanted to see the man (and soon) though, he knew Barry was never going let him live it down for needing to be rescued twice in as many months.

The sound of boots clicking on concrete interrupted Leon's fevered musing, alerting him to the approach of yet another officer. He wondered what variation of a question this one would ask him, which he would have no answer for.

"Well—aren't you a sorry sight."

If he had the strength to, Leon might have raised his head to look upon the visage of this enemy Chris Redfield had warned him of. However, his trembling muscles refused to listen to the commands of his mind. He only had energy enough to growl at the mocking words.

A hand reached over to lift his chin, forcing him to meet the gaze of the taller man. Wesker shook his head at him. It was obvious from the look that the STARS traitor was rather disappointed to see this ex-rookie and survivor of Raccoon City brought so low. "Not even strength left to speak, heh?"

Leon glared at him. A prang deep within him had to acknowledge Wesker's point though. Faint from shock, pain, hunger and dehydration Leon knew he was in a very poor state. His backup and extraction team couldn't come soon enough for him.

"You should see yourself, Kennedy. Practically every inch of you is flowered with bruises or streaked with reddening welts." Wesker walked around him. "My, my, our interrogators really did quite a number on you, didn't they?"

Leon couldn't hold back his gasp of surprise to feel a cool hand touching the line of welts over his thighs. He wanted to pull away from the intrusive touch that lingered over his arse, but he was no more effective avoiding the bastard's exploring hand than he was in evading the lashing.

"They didn't break your skin though, aren't you lucky?" Another hand came to join the first; lightly dancing across his back forming a strange tickling counterpoint to the pain he was experiencing. "Yes, our interrogators prefer their—victims live to talk. Can't do that when they're bleeding to death, you know?

"No, there is far more planned for you, Kennedy." A hand ceased its exploration to grip Leon's chin and force him to look up across the room to where a long mirror lined a wall. "So much more entertainment planned with your own private viewing gallery."

If Leon had the strength to, he would have jerked his head out of Wesker's grip. But he didn't and so was helpless to do anymore than listen to him as he rambled on.

"There's been a lot of interesting talk going on in the mass hall. The guards were discussing what the interrogators would have to do to make the esteemed survivor of Raccoon City talk."

Leon glared hard at Wesker. He was sure the bastard knew quite well that he was never privy to any more information than was necessary to complete his missions.

A finger reached up to stroke his bottom lip. "There was even talk of how pretty you are."

Those words more than any threat Leon had heard from the interrogators lit a tiny spark of fear within him. As if he could smell his sudden trepidation, Wesker smiled lazily as his hand again moved to Leon's buttocks. It made Leon painfully aware of how flimsy and shredded his boxers had become after the ministrations of his interrogators.

"Oh there are international regulations against the torture of prisoners, we know that." Wesker leaned his face within whispering distance to Leon's ear, letting his breath tickle and puff against his sweat soaked skin. "But bastards like us care not for rules, heh? And aren't you too beautiful hanging here in your cell."

Leon tried to turn his face away from Wesker, very aware of the unseen eyes that followed his every movement from behind the mirror. It was without a doubt that every word that Wesker was saying and his every reaction was being tracked and studied by the audience beyond. And it was to his shame and realization that he was probably responding more to Wesker's words and gentle touches than the lines of interrogators were able to beat out of him.

"How about it, Kennedy? Would you still hold your secrets under this threat?" The intrusive hand was now playing with the tattered waistband of his boxers. "No? Or would you enjoy it if the facility director were to—let's say—share you with the barracks."

Leon couldn't help it; he panicked and jerked futilely trying to kick Wesker with his leaden legs, almost forgetting the manacles clamped about his ankles that kept his legs drawn out in an awkwardly wide stance. But he was also too weak to put up more than an ineffectual wiggle of tired limbs. The bastard slid around behind him and brought his arms around his naked chest, the fingers of one hand started to casually brush over and circle the areole on one nipple while the other continued to pick at the waistband of his boxers.

"Mmmm, it's an idea, isn't it, for the powers that be at this station to decide to share their special prisoner with the barracks? And why not? It would be a pretty little reward for the hard working guards to have a plaything they can fuck."

Leon kept his eyes squeezed tight. He couldn't believe what Wesker was saying to him. He didn't understand what the bastard hoped to achieve. Even if he wanted to Leon had no answers for their questions. The ghosting brush of fingers against his boxer-clad groin made him gasp and squirm to try and pull away from the invasive touch.

"Wouldn't that be exciting? It might even be worthwhile to have you transferred to the mercenary arm of the organization, because you know you'd be a perfect prize to hold up. You could make any man want you badly, couldn't you, Kennedy?"

With a sudden jerk, Leon felt and sensed that the waistband of his boxers was torn in two. Then the sounds of a slow ripping of fabric told Leon that his last shred of modesty was about to be stripped from him.

> They'd want you so bad, Kennedy… So fucking bad that you could be held up as a reward for the guards.

He would be completely naked soon, and Wesker was standing so unbearably close Leon thought he could feel the heat of the man's arousal along his exposed cleft. And—Leon couldn't understand it, but he started to become aware of a burning need coursing though his body in response to Wesker's words.

> We would have you chained to a pedestal at the centre of the mess hall where the men can watch you for entertainment as guard after guard fucks you senseless.

The scrap of cloth was finally torn in two, shamefully exposing Leon's rapidly stiffening cock to the cool recycled air. He tries to tell himself that his physical response was involuntary; that he's not consciously getting off from Wesker's descriptions. However, something could also be said about the burning anticipation he felt regarding the hands which had moved to hover over his nipples and stomach even if they weren't touching him.

> Their adrenalin levels are always high after they've successfully turned away an invading force, you can count on the guards to be rough and demanding then. After all it's hard work guarding an Umbrella facility from threats without and within. But you could handle them, couldn't you, Kennedy? And you'd like it, wouldn't you? Put on display in the public hall; watched by top brass who have offices overlooking the mass area? Having them watch you as hard cock after hard cock are stabbed into your stretched and dripping arse. Watch as your face is buried in the pubes of each sweaty grunting guard as he shoves his dick down your throat.

The tattered halves of his boxers slid down his legs, momentarily slowed in their passage to his ankles by the sweat on his thighs. And as the scraps of cloth drifted down, Wesker's seductive purr unaccountably crept in to filled Leon's entire world and become his only focus.

> You'd be a pretty little whore entertaining an entire barracks of strong virile men… You know there's just so little entertainment for the guards on a base. It would help boost their morale to be given an exquisite fuck Toy.

> You would like that, wouldn't you? Having a crowd of strong muscular guards surrounding you? Touching you? Stroking your silky skin? Have fingers buried in your hair? Pinching your nipples, making them hard? Have their hard knees pushing your thighs open? Their strong fingers pulling your arse cheeks aside to let weeping cock heads nudge against your rosebud… Pushing past that tight ring of muscle no matter how hard you try and deny their entrance. Wouldn't you like that, Kennedy?

> How many do you think you can handle at a time? At least two, of course; one in your mouth and another up your arse… However, we have quite a horde of men at these bases and it would take *so* long for you to work through the whole guard barracks…

> Though just handing you over to the barracks would be out of the question, of course. No. We ought to have some discipline. Arrange it such that our hard working guards can take their entertainment in shifts. We could have an orderly stream of men coming and going from your cell at all hours of the day.

> You would enjoy that, wouldn't you, Kennedy? Have a hard cock pumping into your arse one after another after another. Have hot semen gushing down your throat all day long. You'd do well as a camp whore, Kennedy, I'm sure of it.

> Perhaps we'd even let you have a bed, what do you think about that? Have you laid across a cot with wrists cuffed to the ends of the bed. Do you think you could handle four at a time? Have two guards fuck you while your talented fingers jerk off the next two and ready them for their turn.

> Wouldn't that be splendid? Let you have a long cock in your arse, pumping into you hard… Your lips and tongue wrapped around the delicious shaft of the second. And the fingers of your hands curled around the hardening lengths of the other two. You could handle four guards at the same time, couldn't you?

> Maybe we could even charge admission? Take a small token from the men to be added to our entertainment budget. We could charge them a buck a fuck. Reasonable, don't you think? Four at a time, and say each men takes—10 minutes… In one night, we could make one—two hundred off you easily.

> All we need to do to start is to lower this chain, won't we? Get you bent over to have your mouth and arse presented at a convenient height.

> Of course as one of the leaders in this facility, I'd get first privileges. Did you know that, Kennedy? I'd be the first at your grand opening ceremony; be the first to have your warm wet tongue swirl around my length and be pulled into your mouth for a good suck to get ready to take you up the arse. Be the first to plunder your depths and give you your first coating of seed. I'd even let you watch me take you for the first time in front of an audience. Let you stare at me in this mirror as the first one to ravage your tight little body.

> Then it'll be the boys' turn… And I can see you now, Kennedy… laid width wise across your cot with wrists chained to the foot and head of the bed frame; having a sweaty lean guard holding your legs over his arms so that only your shoulders are resting on the bed… His pubes and balls slapping against your buttocks as he impales you on his hard shaft… His bruising hands griping your hips so that you can't get away; pulling you against him as hard as he can so that he can get all the way in. Get in so deep and hard that you think he's going to split you in two.

> But every time he pulls out you'll feel incomplete, won't you? You'll feel empty until he thrusts his cock in again, hard and fast. His hands adding to the bruises on your hips as he slams you back onto his dick as hard as he can. Making you moan and rotate that perfect arse of yours so that he'll brush against that special spot in you.

> Hard fucking would get you up, won't it? Get your cock up and wavering at attention, but you won't be able to do anything about it, would you? Not when your hands are cuffed to the bed. Your fingers wrapped around the hardening lengths of your next two users. And your mouth would be occupied by another juicy cock. No chance for you to beg when your lips are wrapped around that hard muscle; your tongue too busy licking and tasting the salty meat moving in and out of your warm wet cavity. That hard length occasionally pushing too far back, hitting your throat, making you gag and suck harder on that delicious treat… No, that guard would never give you a chance to pull back. His fingers would be tangled in your hair, straining and pulling your face into his groin so that all you can smell and see is a guard's balls or his musky, sweaty pubes.

> Poor Kennedy, you wouldn't be able to see past him to look at your neglected cock. Wavering and swaying like a forlorn tower, even as your pre-cum dribbles from the tip. Leaking and dripping to wet your own stomach and pubes with each bed shaking thrust.

> And the guards wouldn't help you, Kennedy. Why should they? You are there for their enjoyment. Why should the men care if you got off or not? You'll just have to accept them as they shoot their hot come down your fucked-raw throat. Making you gag, forcing you to swallow them down as fast as you can or risk drowning. And if you don't swallow fast enough, some of that come will escape your sweet lips and go dribbling down your chin instead and down your neck or into your hair.

> The one in your arse would be much more thorough. Spurting into you so deep and hot… Coating your bowels… making sure he pumps every single drop into you, wasting nothing. And you'll take in all his searing fluid.

> I can't vouch for the patience of the two men waiting in the wings though. They could be impatient and not let the ones fucking you finish off properly. They could be a little too eager pulling the two satisfied guards out of you making them spray their come over your face or stomach. Maybe they won't even give them enough time to wipe their spent cocks on your cheeks and hair, or your thighs. Not that they'll care about the mess. All they care about is getting their own hard cock, which you've been so lovingly preparing for them, into your well lubricated arse and warm inviting mouth.

> And you'll moan for them, wouldn't you, Kennedy? Moan as limp flesh is pulled out of you to have a new hard and impatient cock replace it; speared into you straight to the hilt. Have a new set of pubes and balls slapping against your buttocks with loud wet smacks; new bruises forming under a different set of hard hands that pull you just as tight against yet another guard. A new rock hard invader impaling you deep… so deep… Feeling so different… Maybe this guard's thicker, longer? Fitting tighter in you and stretching you to your limits; reaching deeper into you than you thought was ever possible.

> And the guards will never care to wait for you to adjust to them, Kennedy. These men don't waste any time. They're using you for one thing, and that's their own pleasure. They want to have your sweet clenching pressure around their cock. They don't want you loosening up or relaxing.

> So the guard who's in you would probably start moving almost immediately. Pulling himself nearly all the way out before plunging into your tight arse again; jerking your hips down forcefully with his hands as he thrusts up. Making you howl around the cock in your mouth as he fucks you just right.

> And you'd feel relieved that you're already so well lubricated. Your hot passage coated thoroughly, slick and wet with the semen of all those guards who went before. And when he draws out and slams into you again, you're going to know that this guard's finally going to be the one who can help you get off, won't he? This one's thick enough, long enough to brush hard against your sweet spot with every stroke. And you'll hope that he's going to take his time so that you'll be able to come before he does and stops this delicious assault.

> Selfish little slut… You'll hardly be thinking of the guards fucking your mouth, will you? Or the new set of cocks that your fingers will be wrapped around and mechanically jerking? Still, I doubt the guards are going to care. You're just a warm wet hole for them to take their relief with; just something for them to shove their demanding lengths and release their spunk into.

> Or maybe they will notice and the others are going to stop. Stop and leave you for a moment to watch while they stroke themselves in readiness to continue where they've left off once the entertainment is over. You'd feel their eyes watch you get the fucking of the night as that guard jack hammers into you like a pile driver, making you moan and shudder under him. They might even help him just so that they can be nearer. Just so they can watch you more closely as he makes you come for him.

> How would you like that, Kennedy? To have your legs held tight by two men, so that you really can't squirm or move, so that you can't wrap your legs around the guard plunging into you to assist him or try to keep him in you. Have them rubbing their dripping cocks against your thighs and coating you with their pre-cum as they watch in anticipation. The fourth man would of course be at your head, hands on your shoulders, making sure you stay down. Slapping your cheeks with his rigid cock just tantalizingly inches from your mouth, dripping his pre-cum over your hair and cheeks. Wouldn't that be so hot?

> We might even call in the media department, have them bring in a camera and film you. Have that exquisite moment captured for transmission across our communications channels so that our worldwide operations can watch as you get thoroughly used and taken… Would I see an increase in requests coming to me for transfers, I wonder?

> And you're going to love it, aren't you, Kennedy? You'd be so eager that you'll go through the whole guard barracks in a day. And being the generous officer that I am, I would allow my men to have seconds, maybe even thirds or fourths. After all, it would boost morale.

> And you'll be tight for all of them, won't you, Kennedy? Tight and perfect; clenching those sweet muscles around their iron lengths; making them eager to take you again and again.

> You'll love it, won't you, Kennedy? Bask in the attention of having so many men ravish you to pieces. Use you for their own pleasures… Shoving their rock hard pricks into you again and again; coming in you and filling you with their seed… One after another, after another…

> I suppose when it's finally time for the facility director to come around for an inspection, you'll look quite a mess won't you? White skin, all redden and sweaty. Your hips flowered with bruises from the hands of the guards gripping you to slam you firmly upon their hard pricks.

> You'll be practically covered in ropes of white crusting fluids, won't you? Over your face, down your chin and neck; your hair matted and clumping together from the drying semen; your hands and arms dripping and coated with pre-come.

> And how about your perfect arse? Your buttocks liberally smeared with semen; all red and bruised from having countless pubes and balls slapping against you… A steady stream of come drooling from your sore little rose and pooling on the mattress of your cot…

> Do you think the facility director will want a piece of you too after the men have already used you like common property, Kennedy? And you will look so exhaustively used. So well used; so *thoroughly* screwed senseless by a veritable horde of hard dicks; filled up, come flooded and completely coated, inside and out by a whole barracks of men. You'll look the perfect example of a well patronized barracks whore.

> What's he going to do when he looks down on you after the last man is finished? He'll have to decide whether to dispose of you or keep you as a permanent entertainment feature for our men. And would he consider having a turn himself with the thoroughly broken in whore? This come sodden wreck of ravaged meat that the men have made of you…

> He'll walk around you. Study the results of having shared this pretty toy among the guards. See how your skin is glistening with sweat and semen. Notice the come drying on you, crusting and starting to flake.

> Then he'll look at your legs. Legs left hanging open and splayed wide by the last guard. And he'll notice that your curly dusty blond pubes have been stained almost white with semen and your cock will be raised above it still at half-mast, still unsatisfied.

> And he'll see your raw puckered little rosebud, clenching and unclenching; practically winking at him. After all, you'd have been fucking for hours and your body could still not yet have fully realized that the cocks have stopped seeking entrance. But you wouldn't be able to stop yourself. Your body would still be unused to the absence of hard cocks to grip and milk with your delightfully clasping muscles. And your unconscious motion would only serve to push semen out of your bowels to dribble down your crack where it'll join the pool of come collecting under you.

> But cum stained as you are, you will still be beautiful and the facility director can't deny that. And he'll feel a want for you too. Feel lust suddenly grip him, prompting him to get his cock out to add to the tributes already paid to you by the guards.

> You'll finally notice him then, won't you? Look at him through a haze of sex and lust and exhaustion as he moves to approach your head where it's hanging over the edge of your bed to brush your lips with his semi erect cock. After servicing a whole barracks, you'd have thought that you were finally done. But what's one more cock, heh? And you're going to open your pretty bruised lips and slide your tongue out to lick him. He'll groan as he threads his fingers into your come soaked hair, and push his pubes into your face so that your lips can wrap around his cock. And you'll swallow that flaccid length, and suckle on that salty flesh.

> You'll suck and swirl your tongue around the length until it starts to harden and fill your mouth. And he'll begin to move then. Thrust in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and swallow him down further; encouraging you to suck harder. But the facility director won't want to come in your mouth. Oh no, he has a much better place to deposit his seed. He's just using your talented mouth to get him hard. And when he thinks it's about right, he'll withdraw and move between your legs. And he won't need to be careful or take it slow. After all, there's no need to stretch you since you already took an entire barracks of men up your arse. What's one more cock spearing into you anyway?

> He'll hold your legs up by the ankles and impale you in one hard stroke. Push in hard and fast, right up to the hilt. And you'll clench those sweet muscles around him forcefully; clasp him strong enough to make him feel as if you're trying to crush him within you. Make him marvel at how snug you feel. How tight and perfect for him despite the passage of all the men who took you earlier. Well worth it for him to keep.

> And you'll moan for him. You'll gasp and whine with every thrust. Struggle to rock back against him… He'll plunge into you at a break neck speed and the slapping and slamming of his hips against your buttocks will attract the attention of the guards again and bring them trailing back to your cell. They'll find you squirming and writhing beneath one of their bosses and won't it get them hot for you again?

> He'll shoot his seed inside you. Making you come with him. Making you scream out just for him and clench so tight around his cock that it gets him hard again; hard and ready for another round of fucking. And the whole barracks will be right there behind him for another turn themselves.

> No rest, Kennedy. They'll be too hot for you to leave you unattended. Your mouth and arse are too much of a cock magnet to ever be allowed to remain empty without someone wanting to fill them. But you could handle it, Kennedy.

> Still… Are you ready for all that, Kennedy? It's your choice.

Wesker's voice finally—finally died away, making Leon aware that he's shivering hard now, and he very honestly couldn't say if this was in fear or arousal. Leon wasn't ashamed to admit it, but he was terrified. And yet he was also rock hard from the seductive purr the bastard had used on him. At no time, did Wesker place a hand directly on his cock but he was erect and dripping from the man's voice and clever imagery. He just couldn't understand why.

"Well, Kennedy? What'll it be?" Wesker's breath puffed tantalizingly against Leon's sweaty face.

"I don't know anything. God damn it, that's the truth." He whimpered softly. Leon hated himself for it, but he couldn't describe his response as anything else. "I don't have answers for what you're asking. You know how it works with the government? I'm never told the reasons when I get sent out. Please… I don't know."

Wesker sighed against his ear. "Then you're not much use to us, are you?"

He raised his arms to grip Leon's wrists. Leon sensed more than felt the chains loosen overhead, and then Wesker was twisting his arms behind him to cross his wrists at the small of his back. Before he knew it, a loop of chain encircled his waist and his wrists were pressed tight against his back.

Moving to his front, Wesker quickly fastened a collar around Leon's neck, and pulled his head down letting the chains about his waist and wrists take his weight; also significantly settling his head at the same level as his vulnerably presented arse.

"Wesker, please?" Leon didn't care that he was begging. The shredded halves of his boxers hanging on his ankles made him much too aware of how wide his legs were spread, and how inviting it made his arse appear with the cleft of his buttocks quite well parted with this new bent over position.

The human Bow smiled at him as he knelt before his trembling frame and gently brushed away the tears from Leon's cheeks. "We have little other use for you, Kennedy. And don't you think this is better than being taken to the labs as an experiment?"

Then Wesker stood and undid his zip, pulling an eager cock out to paint Leon's lips with the weeping head. "Come now, Kennedy. I described a lovely scenario of what could be done to you… Let's make it real."

Leon closed his eyes while he parted his lips. He moaned softly as he let Wesker gently slide his cock into his mouth and down his throat, and began to lick and suck without needing any further prompting. And he hated himself for not knowing for sure whether he wanted Barry to hurry up and rescue him—or take his time.

~Owari~

  


Thanks for reading. firewolf


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